


Pengy All The Way

by Esperata



Category: Batman (1966)
Genre: Bachelor Auction, Dinner Date, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Mayoral campaign, Pining Edward Nygma, Political Campaigns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-29 16:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21412909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Penguin has a plan to run for Mayor of Gotham and enlists the help of fellow rogue, the Riddler.Edward however has his own ambitions for Oswald.Set around the TV episodes "Hizzonner the Penguin" and "Dizzonner the Penguin"
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, penguin/riddler
Comments: 40
Kudos: 132





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Olivia_ES](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olivia_ES/gifts).

> This was in answer to a suggestion on tumblr by @miss-olivia-cellophane  
I hope you like it!

For the criminals of Gotham City there really was only one place to go to unwind – the What-A-Way-To-Go-Go. It wasn’t the biggest club in Gotham, nor was it particularly fancy, however it was discrete. At least from the outside. The inside could vary from a few tables of card games to an impromptu karaoke session at the jukebox depending who was in residence at the time.

The Rogues of the city came here for many reasons. Perhaps the most common was to enlist new help when fresh out of the penitentiary but it was also a place where they could catch up with each other outside that restricted environment. There was a tacitly agreed truce in place which they all upheld.

Riddler was here for the later reason tonight. In point of fact, he’d been stopping by regularly after discovering a certain avian themed companion had been released. Penguin was by no means a frequent visitor to the What-A-Way-To-Go-Go, and it was by no means certain he’d stop by at all, yet Riddler lived in hope. Although Penguin often chose less obviously illegal plots, even he had to hire help.

So far Eddie had been disappointed in his visits but he was nothing if not persistent. Especially when the rewards were high.

Edward would admit that he hadn’t seen the beauty in Oswald at first. He didn’t have the stereotypical physique that billboards and magazines insisted was the peak of attraction. And Riddler would admit to being somewhat shallow, preferring to be seen with a pretty girl on his arm to draw jealous looks.

Yet none of them could engage him mentally. Not like Penguin could. With every meeting with the other Rogue Eddie found himself growing ever more hypnotised by his dazzling mind and quick intelligence. And he found himself growing more and more fond of his appearance too until now it was all he could envisage in his daydreams – soft curves under wandering hands.

Ordinarily he’d be wary of making a pass at another man, especially one with the wherewithal of Oswald, yet rumour was Penguin had no eye for the female of the species. Riddler had spent an interesting evening talking with Marsha Queen of Diamonds and received the distinct impression that Penguin possibly would be more open to his advances than he might have feared.

But first he had to encounter the man.

He cast his gaze about the room, as he had every night for a week now, and his eyes lit up as they recognised the familiar dapper form of the Penguin seated at one of the corner tables. To his absolute elation, when the Machiavellian mountebank saw him, he too grinned and beckoned him over.

Riddler tried not to appear too eager as manoeuvred his way through the tables but he couldn’t hide his grin. His mind was already suggesting possible outcomes from this meeting, each more delicious than the last. His eyes were happily taking Penguin’s measurements so his brain could process each fantasy with more accuracy.

“Eddie! What luck! Just the person I was hoping to see. Sit.”

Edward preened as he took the gestured seat, delighted to find himself actually sought by the other rogue. Perhaps his ambitions weren’t so unobtainable after all.

“Waiter!” Penguin signalled to the bar. “Another drink for my guest.”

For an instant Ed lost himself to one of his favoured daydreams; being showcased as Penguin’s younger lover and basking in the role. He snapped back to awareness as he realised the other man was talking to him.

“I have a most audacious scheme in the offing which would greatly benefit from your help.”

“Anything-” He bit his lip from concluding ‘for you’ and brought his wayward mind back under control. “Anything to humiliate the Batman.”

“Excellent!” Penguin smirked round his cigarette holder. “Just what I thought you’d say.” He leant forward conspiratorially and Edward hastened to close the distance too. “This gambit should not only put him in his place but elevate us to our rightful position of power too. And the best part…” –he moved even nearer and Ed held his breath in anticipation– “is its completely legal!”

As Penguin sat back with his trademark cawing laugh, Ed found himself almost dizzy and it took him several second to recover himself.

“Legal?” he finally asked. “What idea have you come up with this time you crafty bird?”

Penguin took a minute himself to enjoy having Riddler at a disadvantage, taking a long slow (and sinfully seductive Eddie thought) drag of his cigarette, before putting him out of his misery.

“Why, I’m going to run for mayor.”

“Run for mayor!” Ed echoed, brought back to reality with a shocking snap.

“Yes,” Penguin confirmed. “Its perfect! As mayor I’ll be able to rearrange things to perfection. Removing that fool Gordon and dismissing his pet crime fighter. It’ll also garner me the respect I deserve in this city.”

“Yes,” Ed found himself murmuring. Hastily he focused himself. “It’s certainly audacious,” he agreed. “And it’ll be the coup of the century… if you can pull it off.”

“Which is where I’d want your help. I know politics and society manoeuvring, but managing a campaign? Organising schedules and keeping track of commitments? That’s much more your area of expertise Riddler.”

Ed’s mind ran away with him. Working with Oswald on such an operation would, of necessity, let him linger by his side. It would give him the chance to showcase his attributes and give him the opportunity to seduce his princely Penguin. From whispering suggestions of a political nature it would be easy to slide into a flirtatious banter.

“It sounds wonderful!”

Penguin blinked at the easy capitulation and Riddler realised he should have played harder to get.

“Don’t you want to know what you might get out of it?”

This was easy for Ed to scoff at.

“Please, it’s not hard to envisage the possible rewards of a mayoral victory for one of the Rogues gallery. And even without any future promises, the chance to pit my skills against the Batman in a scheme where he can’t interfere for legal reasons is a delightful incentive.”

The reply pleased his companion who smiled across at him, raising his glass in toast.

“To a successful mayoral campaign,” he proposed.

Eddie smirked back at him.

“Pengy all the way,” he concurred.


	2. Chapter 2

“Well? What do you think?”

Riddler snapped back to awareness as he realised Penguin was asking his opinion. He’d gotten slightly lost listening to that rich-toned cadence. And watching those lips too. Was it his fault it was so hard to focus on actual words when there were so many other aspects to hold his attention?

“I think,” he began slowly as he considered what might be an appropriate response. Penguin was giving him his full attention which encouraged him to impress.

“I think,” he started again with more confidence, “that it doesn’t actually matter what you say to the voters.”

“What? What do you mean?”

_‘I mean anyone listening to your voice would be spellbound.’_

He coughed that thought away and turned from Penguin to pace the room, giving himself space to think.

“It’s essentially a popularity competition isn’t it? They hear the big promises but how many of the simple minded populace actually examine the policies to see what those entail? Or weigh up how likely they are to be carried out? No, they look at the choices and decide based on who they like best.”

Penguin didn’t look happy at this assessment.

“With my record then I’m already entering this race lame.”

“Not at all!” Riddler moved back over. “Why, your chequered history with the law will only intrigue them. All you need to do after that is keep their attention. Public appearances, A few parties. Big promises and hints of favours. It’s practically in the bag!”

“A few parties, huh.” Penguin chewed his cigarette holder thoughtfully before glancing back up to Nygma. “What sort of public appearances?”

“Any sort.” Ed shrugged. “Kissing babies is always popular. Handing out rosettes. That sort of thing.”

“Kissing babies,” Penguin growled under his breath. “How disgusting.”

“Yeah,” Riddler agreed distractedly as he imagined kissing Penguin himself. He shook the idea away briskly. “But it wins hearts.”

“Fine. You’ll come with me of course?”

“Ah… no.” Edward hated seeing the disappointed look on Penguin’s face but it couldn’t be helped. “One criminal is an attraction, two is bordering on threatening. I’ll stay in the background and organise invites for you. Get you into all the most public venues. And I’ll arrange the printing of posters, rosettes, flyers-”

Penguin’s deep chuckle interrupted him.

“It seems like we won’t have much time to socialise together,” he commented and Riddler’s heart skipped.

“Just- Just because I won’t be attending _with_ you doesn’t mean I won’t be there. I want to see first-hand how you wow an audience.”

“With panache,” Penguin declared.

For a long moment they shared a conspiratorial grin before Penguin broke away.

“Now, I must go see about my competition. It never hurts to have a little dirt dug up in case public favour needs to be shifted a little bit more my way.”

Riddler watched him go with clear yearning and then threw himself, metaphorically, into arranging the most extravagant campaign the city had ever seen. He especially enjoyed designing posters with the logo ‘Pengy All The Way’ emblazoned across them but he didn’t stop there. He created an array of slogans, posters, pins, rosettes, ditties and flyers.

Meanwhile Penguin started announcing his candidacy and garnering public sympathy with a few staged heroic deeds and generous charity donations. His gift with people was something Riddler had always admired and now he was using it to full effect.

All in all Riddler was enjoying himself immensely and happily anticipating relaxing with Penguin soon as he coasted to his inevitable victory. Perhaps even making use of the thrill of his appointment to declare his intentions. He had the perfect riddle for the occasion too.

His happy daydreams were disrupted though as the man himself burst in and Riddler tried to look suitably surprised rather than ready to swoon.

“Change of plans,” Penguin announced. “We have to up our game. There’s a flying rodent in this rat race now.”

Even Riddler’s quick mind needed a minute to switch tracks and decipher that sentence.

“Batman?” he queried. “Batman’s declared his candidacy for mayor?”

“Yes.” A determined look accompanied a grin around his ever present cigarette holder. “Which presents us with a golden opportunity my friend. If only we can make the _most_ of it. Just think of it. Finally proving our superiority not only in direct competition but publically for all to see! I do believe I have found my true vocation you know. All my devious tricks and ploys are not only encouraged but rewarded!”

“Indeed. Politics becomes you my friend.” He shook himself out of his too obvious admiration. “But let’s not count our chickens before they hatch. Batman has an annoying habit of getting people on his side regardless of his dull and insipid personality.”

“I’ll just have to get out there.” Penguin gestured emphatically. “Shake more babies, kiss more hands, out play him in the popularity stakes. Nothing easier.”

Riddler bit his lip to resist correcting the mixed up phrases.

“Certainly no-one could doubt that you’re the more appealing candidate,” he offered. “Though a little insurance never hurts.”

His mind buzzed with a nascent idea. Something he could put in place without involving Penguin so his campaign would remain above board. A delicious trap fit for broiling this caped nuisance.

Meanwhile Penguin was continuing his plans for an extensive a showy campaign.

“Flyers and posters everywhere,” he insisted. “And at our campaign headquarters, free drinks, a lively band and several dancing girls.” He grinned salaciously. “Everyone loves to see a dancing girl don’t they?”

He laughed but Riddler found he couldn’t join in.

“Not everyone,” he huffed before hearing himself and amending quickly, “Women don’t for a start.”

Penguin waved this away.

“Of _course_ not everyone wants to ogle at women. I know _that._ But men want to be seen to appreciate ogling women and women want to be seen as worthy of ogling. That’s the world we live in.”

“Less so nowadays,” Riddler retorted, only slightly mollified.

“Yes, yes, and we can certainly hope to live in a future where we may choose to cast our admiration whichever direction we like, and women may be appreciated for more than their pretty faces, but I need to win votes _now_, not tomorrow.”

Riddler found himself pausing as his brain stalled over Penguin’s use of the word ‘our’ and he very nearly said something all too revealing when Penguin diverted their conversation back to point.

“Have you got the notes I need to memorise for that television thingie?”

Shaking himself back into the present, Riddler hastily refocused his attention. He had a plan and the last thing he needed to do was jump the gun now. Step one; do away with Batman. Step two; guide Penguin to victory and then step three; confess himself when the man was riding high.

It was fool proof.


	3. Chapter 3

Edward knew he was probably staring adoringly but it really couldn’t be helped. Penguin had pulled off a stunning speech before rounding the afternoon off with a flurry of faux fisticuffs, televised in glorious technicolour, which had put Batman to shame. Edward had particularly liked the moment when one of the GOONs punched a little too close and Penguin had gotten a tad flustered and fought back with gusto and enthusiasm. It was enough to make anyone’s heart flutter.

“That was wonderful!” he gushed. “Such panache! Such aplomb! Why, you had them all eating out of the palm of your hand!”

“Yes, well.” Penguin seemed ruffled by the praise. “It should certainly distract attention from that little misstep with my political opponent and the vat of acid.”

Edward shrugged that off.

“So you have over-enthusiastic fans. Could anyone blame them? But I couldn’t have imagined a better lead up to tonight’s event.”

“Remind me, what’s tonight again?”

“Why! The charity auction! One lucky bidder, if they’re willing to dig deep enough, gets a dinner out with _you._” He practically sighed the last part and hastily drew himself together. “Or Batman, if they’re feeling particularly charitable.”

“Right, right. Proceeds towards the orphanage isn’t it? I’ll agree it’s a worthy cause though I don’t much fancy having to step out with any of the common voters.”

“We’ll claim illness or pressing business or something to avoid you _actually_ having to do that. Tonight’s merely another chance for you to flaunt your superiority over Batman.”

Penguin grinned at that.

“It is going well isn’t it? If I’d known it would be this easy to win the city, I’d have entered politics years ago!”

“You’re a natural,” Riddler agreed. “Now we best get a move on. It wouldn’t do to be late for your adoring public.”

As it was they arrived in good time and Riddler took the opportunity to carefully go over every detail of Penguin’s attire; deft fingers carefully checking his cufflinks, smoothing the front of his jacket and brushing miniscule pieces of lint from the shoulders. He relished the quiet moment backstage while he had an excuse to get up close and personal, trying to push from his mind the idea of Penguin being bought up by some underserving ignoramus. It was just a publicity stunt he reminded himself.

However Penguin was getting increasingly antsy at the delay.

“What’s the holdup?” he demanded of the MC as he approached.

“Oh, it’s quite the to-do. Batman has declined to attend. Something about a crime fighter’s time being of better use elsewhere.”

“Scandalous!” Penguin declared emphatically. “What could be of greater benefit than raising money for widows?”

“Orphans,” Riddler corrected automatically even as his brain swiftly recalculated events.

“He sent a very generous donation,” they were primly informed.

That decided the matter for Edward.

“Well, I’m sure Mister Cobblepot will top that _and_ be shown willing to give up his time for the voting public. Right Penguin?”

“Must I?” he muttered sotto voce.

Riddler took the opportunity to lean closer and even allowed himself a deep inhale of the man’s signature scent.

“Its even better this way,” he insisted. “Previously it was straight up competition you’d be winning but this way you’ve won before you even start! As soon as they see you’re willing to take part when Batman isn’t, why! They’ll be falling at your feet.”

He giggled delightedly. Alongside him, Penguin gave way with a reluctantly conceded smile.

“Very well.” He looked back to the MC. “Well? What are we waiting for?”

The MC darted after him as he strode determinedly for the stage and Riddler swiftly made his own exit round to join the audience. There was a high turnout it seemed although most of the attendees were women and he had to wonder how many had the collateral behind them to bid high. Still he settled in to watch unobtrusively.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the MC spoke briskly into the mic. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you all to this charity auction. There has been a change to the line-up however. Unfortunately Batman has had to withdraw due to other commitments.” A low mumbling of disappointment broke out at this. “We still have our other mayoral candidate on hand though and I hope you’ll still all give generously. Please welcome our first – and only – auction, the Penguin.”

A smattering of polite applause broke out as the man swaggered his way onto the stage. Riddler swallowed hard at the sight of those wide hips before forcibly turning his attention onto the audience’s reaction. It seemed they were unsure what to make of the change in their expectations. With no warm up act, it would require some diligence on the part of the auctioneer to build up the drama.

Unluckily, it seemed the man wasn’t an auctioneer by trade and had no idea how to banter with a hesitant crowd.

“Who’ll start me at $10?”

Edward scoffed. It was a ridiculous starting price for the prize and they could be here some time if he was going to set about it in this way. A few people started taking part, gradually pushing up the price but it was slow going and lacked any excitement. Riddler’s fingers twitched with the urge to join in himself, if only to get this ridiculous hesitance on the part of the bidders over with.

It seemed Penguin too was frustrated with the unprofessional running of things because after an excruciating few minutes he stomped over and grabbed the microphone himself.

“Give that here. You need to show a little more pizazz in your prattle.” He turned a devilish grin onto his audience. “Now, fellow citizens of Gotham, the prize tonight isn’t merely a date with yours truly – although that on its own would be well worth the price, I assure you – no. The prize tonight is a date with the future Mayor of Gotham. Now who’ll offer $200?”

A flutter more bidders joined the game and Penguin continued his prompting.

“A one-to-one session where you can discuss anything your hearts desires. City policies, crime rates, music, cuisine, fashion.”

The bidding stuttered slightly as the price rose beyond a lot of people’s comfort zone but Penguin wasn’t one to sell himself short.

“Come, come. Don’t be shy. I don’t bite. Well certainly not on a first date.”

As he laughed at his own risqué joke, Riddler’s tentative restraint broke. Not one of these people deserved Penguin and not one of them would get the chance at him.

“$1000,” he called out.

The crowd spun to look at him and Penguin’s mouth dropped open but for the first time that night the MC acted decisively.

“Sold!” he declared. “To the man in green.”


	4. Chapter 4

“We don’t have to go for this dinner you know. I’m sure we both still have preparations for tomorrow’s ballot.”

Edward wet his lips before answering. It may have been a foolish impulse to bid for Oswald himself but now he had him within reach he wasn’t going to let him slip away so easily.

“Now how would that look?” he challenged. “In the last hours before your victory, you don’t want to risk it for something so foolish as skipping a dinner appointment. Unless…” he hesitated, “you really don’t want to attend with me?”

“Nonsense. There’s no better company I could choose.”

Riddler felt the tension melt from his shoulders and chanced resting a guiding hand on Penguin’s lower back as he manoeuvred them to their reserved table. As they both settle into their seats, he took a minute to rethink his strategy. His original plan had been to confess in the jubilation of their victory – and that was still optimal – but nevertheless, he couldn’t help but hope tonight might provide him with a perfect opening to bring matters forward.

“Do you have a preference for wine?”

“It depends what we’re eating.” Riddler finally looked over his menu. The place wasn’t terribly upmarket but it was comfortingly refined. The sort of place common folk would consider a posh night out.

“They do oysters,” Penguin pointed out eagerly. “We should start with those.”

“If we’re having oysters, we really ought to have champagne.”

“Isn’t that a little… celebratory before the votes are in?”

“Not at all. It works well with oysters and why can’t we simply be celebrating a successful collaboration? And besides, you’re bound to win tomorrow. What was the latest poll? 65% to 35?”

“It was.” Penguin agree with a smile. “Very well. Oysters and champagne to start.”

“How about the seafood paella to follow?”

“You must have read my mind.”

Riddler briskly signalled to their waiter who scuttled over and hastily wrote the order before hurrying away. He briefly wondered if the man was aware of the high profile of his customers but quickly dismissed the thought.

“Just think,” Penguin spoke slowly. “This time tomorrow I could be mayor of this city.”

“You will be,” he insisted.

“You seem to be very confident. Is that just because it’s been your mind behind the campaign?”

Riddler shrugged.

“Either would be formidable enough, but surely your charisma paired with my intelligence is irresistible?”

“Irresistible? Hhmm, perhaps that’s true.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of their bottle of champagne. The performance of it being opened and poured gave Riddler a moment to assess his next move. However Penguin beat him to it.

“I was giving some thought to your role in future proceedings.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. How would you like to be Commissioner of Police?”

“I think I’d find it very dull,” he answered instinctively. Across from him Penguin laughed.

“I agree the minutiae of the job would be beneath you but you could appoint a Police chief to deal with those. Say, Joker? And in the meantime, you could engage your mind to the task of thwarting any criminals foolish enough not to get with my programme.”

“I could see myself doing that,” Ed agreed.

“You would certainly train your police force to a higher standard of detective skill.”

The praise warmed Riddler and he was happy to sit back smugly while a waiter swept in to rearrange the table things and position a platter between them. His self-confident smile dropped however as he watched Penguin eat the first of the oysters. It wouldn’t have been quite so bad if he hadn’t groaned with satisfaction as he did so.

“Oh these are good,” he declared, quickly picking up another.

Riddler hastened to select his own, as much to try and distract himself as anything. He barely tasted the oyster as he swallowed it down but he nonetheless agreed with his companion.

“Delicious.”

Penguin seemed disinclined to talk while focused on eating so Riddler did his best to both catalogue every swallow of his companion while simultaneously not noticing every swallow. In the end he was sufficiently distracted when he went for a sip of champagne to wash the last of his oysters down only to choke almost violently. By the time he’d recovered under Penguin’s concerned gaze, the oysters were gone and he could breathe safely, in every sense, again.

“Being Police Commissioner,” he began, trying to bring their conversation back to the future, “would mean we’d see quite a bit of each other, I imagine.”

“I should expect so.”

“All work related of course. Meetings, city planning sessions, press junkets and the like.”

“Yes.” Penguin frowned. “It does sound frightfully dull when you put it like that.”

It was the perfect opportunity and Riddler took it.

“Well, we wouldn’t have to _only_ meet at work events. We could have dinners together. Complain about our staff much as we would about our hired thugs. Perhaps talk about ideas that might not be understood by those who’ve only lived on the right side of the law.”

“Yes. Catch up as friends you mean?”

Riddler opened his mouth to contradict that. To say something, anything, to imply a closer relationship. But like a proverbial bad penny their waiter then arrived with their paella. He bit his tongue as more cutlery was laid and plates placed either side along with a bed basket. Penguin immediately began ladling some onto his plate.

“If this tastes as good as it smells then we should definitely come here again.”

“Yes,” Riddler muttered, taking the spoon in turn, before continuing under his voice. “As _friends._”

The sound of cutlery and the business of chewing kept them busy for several minutes and Riddler used the time to rehearse the riddle he’d prepared previously, wondering if it wouldn’t be better to just put it out there and see what Penguin would make of it. He glanced up contemplatively and felt his eyes grow wide.

Penguin was picking out muscles and deftly plucking the meat out before licking the sauce from his fingers. Individually. With great care and dedication. Riddler couldn’t help it. He whimpered.

“Are you alright?”

The words flew from him unbidden at that, although not the ones he wanted to say.

“It increases and decreases, and no one sees it. It is not a fire, and yet it can be quenched.”

Penguin looked thoroughly puzzled and licked the pads of his fingers thoughtfully while opposite him Riddler blushed.

“If you want more champagne you’re more than welcome to help yourself.”

Miserably he nodded and reached for the bottle. Perhaps he should simply drown his sorrows for tonight and try again tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

The main course passed, in what felt to Riddler at least, like an uncomfortable silence. He fully expected Penguin to decline a dessert so they could both escape and was mildly surprised when the man was not only willing to sit it out but had a dish in mind. Although perhaps that merely indicated he’d predetermined he wanted something.

“A dark chocolate bomb,” he requested to the waiter before he could even ask. Penguin then cut his gaze to Riddler. “Do you want anything?”

He shook his head and then looked with what must have been an inquisitive look to Penguin. The man looked suddenly nervous and Riddler felt a shiver of anxiety. Had he made things awkward enough that their partnership was to be curtailed early? He would retract any objection to the terms friends as long as that wouldn’t be the case. If only they could remain friends.

“I heard a riddle the other day,” Penguin started apropos of nothing. “I’m hoping you can help me with it.”

It was so far from what he’d been imagining that he took a few seconds to process the request. But then he sat up eagerly.

“Absolutely. I’ve never heard a riddle I couldn’t solve.”

It was a brag but it was also true. Penguin nodded distractedly before pulling himself together too.

“Very well. What three words are said often, wanted by all, but rarely meant?”

Riddler’s mouth was already opening with the answer when his brain caught up and he froze. His face darkened immediately.

“Who said that to you?” he demanded.

“No-one. I told you. I overheard it.” He rested his head on his interlocked hands. “Why?”

“Because it’s a trap, that’s why,” he snapped back rather too defensively.

“Ah. Well. Then least said soonest mended.” He sat back from the table and fiddled with the napkin in his lap.

Riddler stared unsure what had just happened but absolutely sure he’d messed up somehow. Could it be possible… that Oswald knew what the answer should be? That he was trying to coax it from Riddler himself? Were they both in actuality trying to seduce the other?

Penguin’s dessert arrived but the man looked less enthusiastic about it now. He broke open the shell and watched as the dark sauce spread out over the plate. Riddler swallowed hard and steeled himself.

“That looks nice,” he offered before gathering all his courage. “Would you mind if I try some?”

The question brought a bemused look to Penguin’s face but he shook his head and shifted the plate forward towards him. Instead of taking up his own spoon, Riddler took a risk and leant forward to swipe one long finger through the chocolatey mess. He kept his eyes on his companion as he deliberately sucked the digit into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it to get every trace of sauce off.

He was rewarded by widening pupils and hitched breath.

“Delicious,” he murmured as he slid the finger from his lips.

Oswald dropped his gaze to his plate but not fast enough to hide his suddenly red cheeks. He fumbled as he reached for his spoon and Riddler snuck in quickly to grab it.

“Allow me,” he offered, spooning a portion up and making sure to run it thoroughly through the sticky chocolate pooling on the plate. He then raised it expectantly in front of Oswald, meeting his wide eyes dead on.

Penguin glanced round briefly, checking their audience before leaning forward and drawing the whole mess of his dessert off the proffered spoon. He groaned softly at the rich taste, his hand instinctively coming up to grip alongside Riddler’s to steady it. As he drew back though he determinedly pulled the spoon with him. Riddler relinquished it without quibble, knowing he’d already pushed their luck in a public venue.

“What three words,” he recited instead, “are said often, wanted by all, but rarely meant.”

Penguin was looking trapped now which wasn’t Riddler’s aim at all so he briskly continued.

“If those words are spoken as the answer to a riddle, they’re not meant Oswald. That’s why it’s a trap. And I should know,” he chuckled ruefully.

“Oh.”

The other man had ducked his gaze again and Riddler nearly kicked himself.

“I should know,” he reiterated, “because I intended to trap you in just the same way. Well, a slightly different riddle,” –he carefully didn’t say better- “but exactly the same methodology.”

“You were?” Penguin’s entrancing grin returned. “What was your riddle then?”

“I can start a war or end one. I can give you the strength of heroes or leave you powerless. I might be snared with a glance, but no force can compel me to stay. What am I?”

Penguin laughed.

“Much better than mine, I’ll admit, but I’m not sure I’d have solved it.”

“Of course you would. You’re one of most intelligent people I’ve ever met.”

“Even the smartest men can be blind to what’s right in front of them.”

“Perhaps. But neither of us are blind now are we?”

“No. We are not,” Penguin agreed. He glanced back at his dessert. “How about I finish this and then we can go discuss our future collaborations somewhere… a little more private?”

“That sounds like a wonderful plan. We can start celebrating your victory too if you’d like.”

“It might be a little premature for that.”

“What if I just like the thought of calling you Mayor Cobblepot?”

“Eddie, you may call me whatever the hell you wish but if you don’t let me finish this dessert you’ll be calling me long distance.”

Riddler held his hands up in surrender and leant back to watch the all too erotic sight of Penguin licking chocolate sauce from his lips. Perhaps a little breather _was_ in order, if they were to leave with their dignity intact.


	6. Chapter 6

“Eddie,” Penguin whined. “I have to go. I need to arrange a kidnapping to ensure-” he stuttered into silence as lips trailed their way over his neck.

“You don’t,” Riddler muttered. “You’re bound to win. Now come back to bed.”

Penguin clearly wanted to. Riddler could feel the effects of his waning resistance like a tide flowing into his arms. Then the man found a last effort of will to rise.

“My god, you’re insatiable!” he declared running a hand through his dishevelled hair to try and smooth it back down. Penguin had managed to dress himself but it had been a bit of a tug-of-war battle all the way with Eddie’s wandering hands.

“Can you blame me?” He shrugged and settled himself back onto the bed in what he hoped was a seductive pose. Judging by the heated look he was receiving it was working.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

Riddler blinked at that barb and sat up again.

“You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you?” He caught the idle hands in his and pressed delicate kisses to the backs of them. Penguin had yet to don any gloves and Riddler was going to make the most of any available piece of skin.

“Except let me get on with my scheme,” he pointed out.

With great reluctance, Riddler released his grip and once again raised his own hands in surrender.

“I’ll let you go,” he promised. “Even though I’m sure it’s unnecessary and it will leave me unbearably cold.”

“Then put some clothes on!”

Riddler pouted.

“Does that mean you don’t want me lying naked here waiting for you to return?”

“It means,” Penguin growled – leaning over him in a manner that he couldn’t do when they were both standing and which Riddler realised he liked very much – “I don’t want anyone else to see you naked, ever, and I would very much enjoy striping you again myself later.”

Any answer was promptly cut off by a very determined kiss that left Riddler momentarily breathless.

“No-one but you,” he agreed when he was able to speak again.

Penguin stayed hovering above him, his eyes scanning his carefully.

“Do you mean that Eddie? Only me?”

“Only you,” he confirmed, leaning up to place a brief kiss against his lips. Then he bit his own hesitantly. “If you want to ask me that riddle again, I can promise the answer will be true.”

The look of hopeful surprise on Penguin’s face etched itself on his heart.

“Oh Eddie!” He dropped down into his embrace, nearly knocking the wind from him but Riddler scarcely cared. “Me too,” he murmured quietly.

Riddler sighed happily and enjoyed running his hands up and down the broad back of his lover. When he dared sneak a hand under the jacket however, Penguin seemingly remembered his prior plans.

“Now don’t distract me again,” he scolded, levering himself back off the bed. “I need to go kidnap that voting board.”

“You don’t,” Riddler pointed out, sitting himself up again as well. “But if it will make you feel better go on. I’ll wait for you here. And then we can celebrate your victory again.”

Penguin shook his head but he couldn’t help but shoot him an amused look.

“Insatiable,” he repeated. “Fine. I’ll be back later. And if I’m not, perhaps you could condescend to get dressed and come find me?”

“Certainly. You didn’t think I’d let you leave me too long did you? As soon as I’m rested,” –he stretched languidly- “I’ll make myself presentable and come meet up with you.”

Penguin took the opportunity to head for the door of his bedroom, stopping only to collect his white gloves from his dresser. As he did so though he looked back again at Riddler, once more laid out in his bed. An anxiety passed across his face and he hesitated.

“You will be here for me later won’t you?”

“Of course,” he answered immediately. “It’s you and me against the world from now on.”

He received a nod in return before Penguin once more turned to leave. This time Riddler stopped him, suddenly afraid himself that he wouldn’t see the other man again.

“Ozzie?” He almost stopped when the full attention swung back to him but he licked his lips and continued. “I love you.”

The remaining tension melted from Penguin’s face and he smiled back at him.

“I love you too.”

With that he strode confidently towards the door. Edward couldn’t resist calling out to him before he got through the doorway.

“Don’t be gone too long or all your new constituents will see me haul you over my shoulder to drag you back to bed.”

That earned him a bark of laughter and a smirk.

“I’d like to see a green bean pole like you try,” he challenged.

Riddler bit back his own retort and let the man leave. However he privately vowed to literally sweep the man off his feet by the end of the day. It might break him but he was sure the effort would be worth it. Especially if it meant Oswald would have to dote on him in bed longer.

And that was a prize worth winning.


End file.
